TRISH CHOATE: A day with pie is a good one

WICHITA FALLS — This is a tale of two pies. It's also the story of four to nine pies.

Either way, desserts are prominent players.

I believe they are just desserts for another year of hard work, another 12 months of paying the electric bill through automatic deductions from my checking account, feeding the cats, vacuuming up stray chunks of cat food and riding the subway without kicking Mr. Sharp Elbows in the shins and telling him he needs breath mints.

All of the above are among the things that eat up our lives, taking steady bites daily. Sometimes the munching is so loud, it's difficult to discern the magic among the mundane.

In the days before Thanksgiving, I knew I should be thankful for countless reasons, such as "ANY DAY ABOVE GROUND IS A GOOD ONE." So says a mug from the National Museum of Funeral History in Houston.

But before my flight home to Texas, I can only scrape up two.

1. I survived another presidential election.

2. My daughter's boyfriend fixed the fuel pump on the car for $80, saving about $520.

As I step onto the plane, I fear Thanksgiving at home is a mirage receding before me. I will travel to Wichita Falls to see my family only to find out Thanksgiving relocated to Tulsa, Okla., with no advance warning.

At my mother's house later, I discover pies — pecan and pumpkin. I am dazzled and have a hard time counting. I don't want to tell pie lies, so I will put the count at an estimated four to six.

Later, a family member makes a cherry cheesecake in a pie dish. The pie count rises to as many as seven if one defines a pie by its dish.

On turkey day, my Aunt Dorothy brings one of her famous pecan pies, causing a growth in the number of pies to perhaps eight.

They come out at the end of the meal along with a bowl of homemade whipped cream. The ratio of whipped cream to pie is 1:1 on average at the table.

We are very thankful for whipped cream and pie, but we do leave leftovers.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving, we have a lasagna dinner. I scan the refrigerator sadly, realizing the pie supply dwindled severely. Where did it all go? Did somebody have it for breakfast, a late night snack and a midday refresher? Not me.

Aunt Dorothy walks in, carrying a paper sack. Inside, still warm from the oven, is another one of her famous pecan pies, remedying the shortage with, perhaps, No. 9.

We top the pie with whipped cream from a can. It sprays out unexpectedly generously and stacks up quite attractively atop even the tiniest sliver of pie. The ratio of whipped cream to pie is 3:1 in some cases.

I am thankful when I get to eat the final piece of Aunt Dorothy's pie.

It's a little slice of magic.

Texas regional reporter Trish Choate can be reached at 202-408-2709 or choatet@shns.com.